


Brushing Up

by mandykaysfic



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Body Paint, Fade to Black, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10557366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: He selected a broad sable brush and dipped it into the pot of brown.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2005 for lj's Voyager week challenge 'back'.

Tom surveyed the tautly stretched bronze skin that covered the well-delineated muscles. His gaze followed the curve of the spine and locked onto the twin dimples marking the barely lighter skin covering the frankly delectable buttocks. He minutely rearranged the position of the arms and legs once more and then nodded in satisfaction.

He selected a broad sable brush and dipped it into the pot of brown. An easel holding a blank canvas beckoned. He stretched out the loaded brush. At the last minute, he transferred the color to Chakotay’s right flank with several quick strokes.

As the bristles touched his back Chakotay jumped, smearing Tom’s neat lines.

“I thought you were going to paint me?”

“I am - painting you. You are now my canvas, about to be to be adorned with my rendition of DuBell’s ‘Vulcan Sunrise’,” and Tom laughed wickedly as he dipped the brush back into the brown and added the opposite side of the canyon to Chakotay’s left flank. 

Splotches of red streaked clouds and a round golden sun soon covered Chakotay’s shoulders while the canyon walls were highlighted with touches of orange where they had been caught by the rising sun.

Chakotay tried to hold still, but suddenly he tipped his head and sniffed several times. He swore he could smell fruit; strawberries, pineapple…and chocolate? A small groan escaped his lips. 

“Tom?” 

“Keep still!” and the pointed end of the brush poked him warningly.

Careful to move only his lips, Chakotay let his curiosity get the better of him and asked again, “Tom?” Tom had obviously been reading again.

“Oh, all right. I read this book in which a mad Parisian artist would kidnap nubile young things and take them back to his studio, where he would paint Monet’s ‘Water Lilies’ in flavored syrups over their firm bodies, and then lick it off. It sounded fun, but in all honesty, I just couldn’t see you in pink, mauve and green.” 

Tom thoughtfully sucked the chocolate off the end of the brush as he surveyed his handiwork. He slowly placed the brush next to the pots of color and knelt behind Chakotay. He extended his tongue and proceeded to touch up his work.

END


End file.
